Aberration
by Patchfire
Summary: Chapters 1 & 2 Swapped, because of ff.net! Summer after GoF through Easter hols 5th year. Harry realises he's gay and deals with all that entails. Pre-slash H/D, two more stories to follow. **Re-loaded 8/14, some chapters combined**
1. So It Begins

  
  
The problem, Harry decided, lay in the fact that he had begun thinking. Two weeks after he returned from his fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter had lain awake, pondering a topic near and dear to the heart of every teenage boy, wizard or Muggle – sex. Now, Harry had, at that point, had one single object of desire, the Ravenclaw Seeker, a year ahead of him, named Cho Chang. Cho, however, had been rather serious with Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff who had been one of the other three TriWizard competitors. Therein Harry's difficulties began.  
  
Cedric had been killed during the final task by Voldemort, the most horrible Dark wizard known to the wizarding world. Harry reckoned that it was at least partially his fault that Cedric had died, and therefor at least partially his fault that Cho Chang had been devastated and heartbroken. This led him to the conclusion that no matter how much attraction he felt towards her, he could never, ever act on it in any way. Thus he was left with a problem – how to stop being attracted to her.  
  
After an hour or so of discarding potential solutions, Harry had hit upon a nearly foolproof plan – substitute someone else for Cho in all his fantasies and thoughts. The problem was coming up with the someone else. His initial plan was to substitute someone that was the antithesis of Cho – ugly, stupid, horrible flyer, no interest in Quidditch whatsoever – but that plan was abruptly terminated when he realised that the person that most fit the description was Pansy Parkinson. No way would he ever be able to convince himself to even think about her without retching. Just before sleep finally claimed Harry, a last thought came unbidden to his mind. What about a guy?  
  
  
  
The next morning, Harry awoke with a vaguely disturbing feeling. He was almost certain that it was somehow related to his dreams. While normally he had disturbing dreams that were connected with Voldemort, he was immediately aware that this dream had nothing to do with his nemesis. As further confirmation, he was rapidly becoming conscious of the fact that he was lying in something wet and sticky. Realisation slammed into Harry's brain as he jumped up and hurriedly made the bed. Better wet and sticky in the evening than for Aunt Petunia to find out. Equally quickly, he shed his pajamas and slid into some of Dudley's hand-me-downs. This year's crop weren't quite as oversized, thanks to the Smeltings staff's effort to reduce the size of Dudley's waistline, but Harry still swam in them. Safely attired, all evidence hidden, Harry paused to reflect on his dream – and why had it been so disturbing?  
  
As Harry sat and let his mind wander over the bits and fragments of the dream that he could remember, he gradually began to understand that the incredibly erotic dream he had just had was not, in fact, about a woman, but about a man. Harry was even more disturbed. He liked girls. Girls like... no, no, don't think it, don't say it, must forget her. Girls like... damn. What if Cho was an aberration? Nothing more? What if the Boy Who Lived really was... the Boy Who Loved Boys? Gay? Harry didn't know much about the attitude towards gays in the wizarding world, but it wasn't generally the best in the Muggle world, and Uncle Vernon in particular was very outspoken against fags' and their queer' ways that were contaminating' the rest of the population. This was hardly a good opinion of gays and not the one that Harry needed. Besides, what if the dream was the aberration, and not liking Cho? How was he supposed to know? Ah. He could look at both genders, check them out, and then decide. Perfect plan. Only... how? The only people he saw were his aunt and uncle and Dudley, and he knew he found none of them attractive in any way, and purely repulsive in a sexual way. There weren't many hot witches or wizards hanging around Privet Drive. He couldn't ask Ron; what if Ron freaked out? Hermione would want to research _why_ he felt that he might be attracted to other guys.   
  
Then Harry smiled. Sirius. Surely Sirius wouldn't laugh. I've got that one letter almost finished, he thought. I'll write a separate one with my questions on it. Pleased to have a plan, Harry decided to write the letter quickly before the rest of the household woke up – and before he lost his nerve.  
  
_Dear Sirius,  
  
This is a very hard letter to write. I'd appreciate it if we keep its topics on separate letters, as I do allow Ron and Hermione to read your replies, generally, and I'd prefer they not know anything about this, at least for now.  
  
Okay. Here goes. How do you know if you're gay? Please, please, don't freak out on me. It's just... I had this incredibly erotic dream last night and I was with this incredible guy (didn't look like anyone I know – unfortunately!) and I've never had that kind of dream about a girl. There aren't a ton of hot witches OR wizards parading down Privet Drive, you know, so I can't exactly watch them all to test myself, although that was my first plan.   
  
Secondly, IF, and that's a HUGE if, I was to be gay, how does the wizarding world view gays? I realise you might not know, really , and that's fine, but the Muggle world is relatively prejudiced and many people have strong feelings against it, so I was just wondering.  
  
Whew. Please reply quickly.  
  
  
Harry  
  
_  
The letter done, Harry sent Hedwig along with it and the previously written letter, and then he sat back to await a reply. Lately it had been taking Hedwig half a day or less to return with a reply from Sirius, leading Harry to believe that he was very close by indeed. He even suspected he could get a reply within a few hours this time. Harry was not disappointed.  
  
Aunt Petunia had set him to weeding her flower beds in the back yard when a large black dog bounded up. Harry's eyes widened as the dog placed a sheet of parchment at Harry's feet, instructing him to come for a walk that night at 11 PM in front of the Dursleys'. Harry quickly nodded, then shredded the parchment and worked it into the dirt before Dudley or Aunt Petunia could notice. When he looked up again, the dog had disappeared.  
  
Harry had never both dreaded and anticipated an hour so much before. At 10:45, he could wait no longer, and, ignoring the butterflies fluttering ominously in his stomach, Harry crept down the stairs and out the front door, and stepped into the moonlight only to collide with –  
  
Sirius! Is it safe to show your face like this? Harry was startled and concerned.  
  
Shh, Harry! Yes, yes, it's fine, we're working on getting me cleared, enough that I can go around in some neighborhoods. But I'm here to help you.  
  
Harry reddened, and Sirius must've sensed it, because he yanked Harry's chin up, staring into the green eyes.   
  
C'mon, I know you're embarrassed, but better me than anyone else. Besides...  
  
Harry was now curious.  
  
Besides, you won't find many wizards with experience on both sides of the coin, Sirius mumbled.  
  
Who's embarrassed now? Harry mocked, then softened and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. The two walked in companionable silence for awhile. Wait! Where're we going, Sirius?  
  
To Arabella's house.  
  
  
  
Oh, gods, Harry, I'm sorry. You don't know! Why Dumbledore didn't ever tell you is beyond me, but... anyway. Your Mrs. Figg is actually a witch that was a year or two ahead of us at Hogwarts. Arabella Figg.   
  
Harry groaned. Does _she _ know what we're going to be talking about?  
  
Not talking, Harry, showing, deciding. And no.  
  
The pair reached the house, Sirius let them in, and he showed Harry to a back room, where he gave him two packages. Here. When you're done looking, think for a bit, then come find me. He gave Harry a final smile before closing the door.  
  
Curiously, Harry opened the packages. One was full of wizard porn magazines, and the other was full of... gay wizard porn magazines. Harry grabbed at the regular' magazines out of desperation, but was forced to conclude moments later that he found them somewhat boring. Full of trepidation, he reached for the other stack.  
  
It was some time later when Sirius knocked on the door and opened it slightly. Uh, Harry? You didn't fall asleep, did you? Because we only have so long before dawn, you know.  
  
Harry was startled. Had that much time really passed. Oh! No, no, I didn't fall asleep. But I, um... I think I found the answer to my question.  
  
  
  
It's not exactly the one I was looking for, but I guess I kind of knew.  
  
Sirius had entered the room and sat in a chair, nodding understandingly. I felt the same way. Of course, I didn't have to find out this way.  
  
Harry cocked an eyebrow questioningly, and Sirius smiled ruefully and continued.  
  
I had one of my best friends suddenly appear in my bed one night. I had been... questioning... things before, but Remus brought it all to a head, you could say.  
  
Harry's eyes nearly goggled out of his head. _Sirius_ and _Professor Lupin_?!? Then he just smiled, as Sirius was still talking.  
  
Now, well, you've got it tougher. Wizard world's a bit better about gays than Muggles, and it's better than it was 17 years ago, too, but it's still hard to actually _find_ someone else, especially someone else that's out. I'm not saying you should hide it, but... you'll want to be discreet about who you tell. Especially being you. You have to trust that person and everyone that they might possibly tell.  
  
Those words continues to ring in Harry's ears for the next few weeks as he did the chores that the Dursleys assigned and thought about the next school year. Hmm. I'm gay. Gay. Interesting. Can I tell Ron? Somehow I don't feel comfortable with that. He might think I like him or something. Wait, do I? No. No, definitely not. Phew. Okay. So. Can I tell Hermione? She might have Muggle attitudes, but... I think I might could actually tell her. Maybe.   
  
Harry thought about the boys at Hogwarts. Were any of them out? Any of them like him and maybe looking but not wanting to be out? Even if they were all gay, he couldn't put a finger on anyone that struck his fancy. In retrospect, he realised he had unconsciously eliminated several of the students, but at the time, it wasn't noticeable at all.  
  
  
  
A letter from Ron, inviting him to stay at the Burrow, appeared a few weeks before school started. His family had already gone to Diagon Alley, he wrote, but Mr. Weasley was sending a Ministry car around to Diagon Alley in two days, and Harry could stay at the Leaky Cauldron for two nights and complete his own shopping before using Floo to reach the Burrow. Harry was a bit confused as to why he might need two days to shop but then realised he was actually slightly grateful to have another chance to explore Diagon Alley alone, and complete his shopping alone.  
  
The day arrived, and Harry took his leave of the Dursleys quickly. He settled in at the Leaky Cauldron in the afternoon and set off immediately to take care of some of his shopping. He went by Gringotts and made a substantial withdrawal, exchanging nearly half of it for Muggle money. He planned to finally get some new Muggle clothes as well. On the way back to the Leaky Cauldron for dinner, he stopped to get his ink, parchment, quills, and potions ingredients, so that the most boring part of his shopping was taken care of.  
  
The next morning, Harry rose early and set off for Flourish and Blotts. With a little time, he found a section for gay wizards, and he selected two titles, both of which he buried amongst his school books and a couple of texts on advanced defense against the dark arts, something he figured he needed. Bookstore errands complete, he went to Quality Quidditch Supplies and ordered new attire, since he had shot up to a respectable 5' 11 over the summer, and filled out decently as well. His last stop was at Madam Malkins, where he requested more tailored school robes, as well as some attire made of dragonhide. Finally, he decided to purchase some robes that were neither school or dress, seeing as nearly everyone else in Diagon Alley wore robes as everyday attire. He had a good deal of fun picking out robes that complemented his coloring and frame. Pleased with his new purchases, he dropped them off at the Leaky Cauldron and headed into Muggle London. Hailing a taxi, he adopted a bad American accent and asked for the best places to go to shop. The driver let Harry out in front of Harrod's, and pointed out several more shops as well as good restaurants along the same stretch of road. Harry spent several hours in the stores, pausing only for a quick lunch from a sidewalk vendor. By dinnertime, he did not want to wait through the drive back to the inn, so he ate at one of the expensive restaurants, enjoying himself thoroughly. He returned to the Leaky Cauldron laden with packages, pockets considerably lighter. As he prepared for bed, he stopped to think for awhile.  
  
He didn't want Ron or Hermione to think he had somehow changed, become shallow or a snob or anything. He just wanted to actually take pride in his appearance for once. He hadn't had any new clothes aside from school robes since he could remember, and now he had taken an opportunity that presented itself. It wasn't just that, though, he admitted to himself. He needed the confidence boost. Harry still wasn't even sure about coming out to Hermione, much less Ron, and he was sure that he would never attract anyone if he continued to look like he slept in his clothes. Resolving to act the same as always despite his outward appearance, Harry took out one of the books he had selected from the gay wizards section, and stayed up late reading about wizarding attitudes, regulations, and social conventions among the gay wizards in Britain. Fascinated, he finished the book before collapsing in his bed some time after 3 AM.  
  
It was 9 AM before Harry woke the next morning, and he realised he had one more errand to run before he could pack and Floo to the Burrow. He decided it was finally time to get new glasses, if not lose them completely. He went back into Muggle London where he got silver-colored wire frames for his lenses, as well as contacts. While extraordinarily happy with the look of the contacts, he concluded that was exactly the type of change that might be looked upon unfavorably by his two best friends, and he resolved to save them for after they had adjusted to his new look somewhat. Shopping complete, Harry went back to Gringotts to obtain pocket money for the upcoming school year. In his room, he removed all the Muggle clothes that he had previously owned and burned them in his fireplace. He had taken his old school robes to a secondhand store the day before, and his trunk was now empty enough to hold his new everyday robes, new school robes, dragonhide pants, dragonhide boots, and the various Muggle clothes he had purchased. Harry put on a pair of black jeans, a tight white t-shirt, and black Converse All-Stars and closed the trunk, placing Hedwig's cage on top. She had taken another letter to Sirius the night before and Harry had instructed her to wait at the Burrow. Harry looked at his watch (new) nervously. It was nearly lunch time. Harry started to adjust his glasses before realising that his new ones didn't slide down his nose at all, then he took his things downstairs and went to the fireplace. Taking a pinch of Floo powder, he waved goodbye to Tom, threw the powder in, then jumped in with his things, and shouted out The Burrow!  
  



	2. On Platform 9 3/4 & Beyond

  
Harry managed to make his landing in the Weasley's kitchen more graceful than usual. He was pleased to see that he had guessed correctly that no one was in the house, as Mrs. Weasley had yet to start preparing lunch. Harry heaved his trunk up the stairs into Ron's room and greeted Hedwig, who carried a response from Sirius.  
  
_Dear Harry,  
  
Sounds like you're having fun shopping these couple of days. I wouldn't worry about how Ron and Hermione will react to you having nicer things; they should be happy for you. Good luck if you tell H., and think about the other.  
  
Love,  
  
Sirius_  
  
  
Harry smiled and tucked the letter in his trunk, and headed back downstairs, where Ron's mum was now busily fixing sandwiches.  
  
Mrs. Weasley!  
  
Oh, Harry! Hello! I hope you weren't too lonely in Diagon Alley.  
  
Oh, no, not at all. Had a great time, actually. So where's everyone at?  
  
Mrs. Weasley's smile was patient. Well, Hermione's only watching, but the rest are up in the air. Charlie's visiting, you know, and I think they were counting on you getting here sooner to be the other Seeker.  
  
Harry flushed. I had to go pick up these, he said as he gestured to his new glasses, plus pack everything up.  
  
Oh, no, dear, it's not a problem, and those glasses are quite nice. Do you want to just take these sandwiches down to the field? You can all eat out there.  
  
Harry smiled. Sure thing. Let me just fetch my Firebolt.  
  
Harry set off, Firebolt in one hand and picnic basket in the other, feeling like all was right with the world. He came up on the field where the others were practising Quidditch, and stepped behind Hermione, who was following Ron with her eyes.  
  
Take a picture, it'll last longer, he whispered.  
  
Hermione exclaimed. We've been waiting for you. I'll just call them dow–  
  
No, no, wait, Harry protested. It's not often I get to just _watch_ a game. Plus, this way we get first dibs on the food, he added, holding up the picnic hamper.  
  
Hermione smiled and grabbed a sandwich as Harry settled beside her. So. How was your summer?  
  
Harry sighed. The last two days have been fun, at least. I got most of my homework done in the first two weeks, and I did get to see Sirius.  
  
Really? How in the world?  
  
The old neighbor woman I used to have to stay with, Mrs. Figg, is actually a witch only a couple of years older than Sirius who takes an ageing potion and is supposed to watch me – Arabella Figg. So Sirius was able to see me there. I spent most of one night there, eating and... well, Sirius helped me to, ah, figure out a few things.  
  
Hermione smiled brightly. That's wonderful! And I take it you enjoyed your shopping expedition? She gestured to Harry's attire. I mean, I love you like a brother, Harry, so don't take this the wrong way, but... you look hot!  
  
Harry smiled. Thanks. Yeah, I did have fun, weirdly enough. I even bought extra books, you'd be proud. I had to get all-new robes and I decided to go into Muggle London and get some clothes that actually fit for a change.  
  
And rather expensive ones at that, Hermione added, pointedly glancing at the cK logo on the jeans.  
  
Harry sighed. I'd appreciate it if you didn't share that knowledge with Ron. He's so prickly sometimes, I'm not even sure how he'll react to the fact I got new stuff.  
  
He _should_ be happy for you, you've never really had anything just for you before! But, I do know what you mean. Mum's the word. I like the glasses by the way.  
  
Harry's smile was genuine then. I got contacts, too, but I decided to wait on them, for now. Seemed kind of prudent.  
  
Hermione nodded, and there was a slight lull in the conversation. Then she spoke again. So. What else is there? There's something else you want to tell me, and you're holding back.  
  
I should've known I couldn't fool you, Harry sighed. Look, this goes no farther than the two of us, and... I hope you won't freak out, or think less of me, but... I can't change the way I am, okay?  
  
Hermione was looking worried by now. What is it, Harry?  
  
Harry turned and looked at her front on. I'm gay.  
  
Oh! Is that all?  
  
  
  
Hermione smiled. I guess I mean, it just doesn't matter to me at all. One of my uncles is gay, you know. But I can see why you don't want to tell anyone yet. Ron would think that you were hitting on him constantly, and – wait, you don't like Ron, do you? Now her voice was slightly alarmed.  
  
No, no, Harry reassured her. I love Ron like a brother, and that's definitely all. Actually I don't like _anyone_ right now – I went through what I could remember of the male population of Hogwarts and couldn't come up with a soul. But – people change over the summer, so we'll see.  
  
Yes, they do change – like you did, Harry! Hermione laughed. I'll keep the secret, okay, but you have to talk to me about guys now!  
  
Harry grinned. You're a great friend, Hermione.  
  
You aren't bad yourself, Harry. Now I really can't wait to see the kind of clothes you bought yourself in London!  
  
The two laughed and then sat in companionable silence watching the game in front of them. Charlie was about to grasp the Snitch when Harry pulled out his wand and _Accio Snitch!_ The Snitch flew into Harry's hand, and the Weasleys all turned, dumbfounded, to stare at the ground. Ron recovered first and sped towards the two figures on the ground.  
  
Harry! How long have you been here? You should've come up, we needed you.  
  
Hey, Ron! I was eating some of these sandwiches. Besides, I still caught the Snitch, right?  
  
The other Weasleys landed then and the sandwiches were passed out. Harry found himself wedged uncomfortably between George and Ginny, and Fred was on Ginny's opposite side. The group chattered easily about their summers, the game they had just played, and Fred and George's burgeoning mail-order business and their mysterious investor. It was midway through the meal when Harry became aware that Fred and George were slowly pressing in on he and Ginny, forcing them closer together. He recognized the winks exchanged between the two of them and Ron and groaned inwardly.  
  
Great, he thought, just great. They've all gone off on their own and decided to set me up with Ginny. Probably thinking it'll keep my mind off things or something to that effect. If Harry could have seen his own expression, he would have labeled it as a mix between terrified, disgusted, and completely disinterested, but only two of the circle recognized it. Hermione cast him a covert sympathetic glance, and Harry could take no more. He hurriedly finished the last of the sandwich in his hand and jumped up.  
  
I think I'll just, ah, do some flying now, while you all finish. With that, he scrambled on his broom and kicked off. He heard them talking as he flew away.  
  
Well, honestly!  
  
No appreciation –  
  
Then Hermione cut in. Leave it, guys. Just leave it, and Harry was soon out of earshot. It was five minutes or more before he became aware that someone else was flying near by. He turned to see Charlie Weasley.  
  
Sorry about that down there. Fred and George generally don't think.  
  
Harry shrugged uncomfortably.  
  
Charlie laughed hollowly. I've only seen an expression like that on a guy's face while sitting near a pretty girl once before – on my brother Bill's. He stopped, peering curiously at Harry. You know, then, at least, but you don't want everyone to know right now? Understandable.  
  
Charlie, wha- what are you...?  
  
Charlie smiled. You are, aren't you? Gay, I mean.  
  
Harry could only stare as his jaw dropped.   
  
S'okay. Like I said, Bill is too. I think he'd be willing to give you a bit of advice, if you want.  
  
But, ah, wouldn't everyone wonder why Bill was writing me?  
  
Charlie waved his hand negligently. You can go through me. Listen, I won't tell a soul, but please tell me you don't have any, er, designs on any of my brothers...  
  
Harry smiled. No, definitely not.  
  
Charlie smiled in relief, and the others soon joined them as they spent the afternoon flying.  
  
  
It was after dinner before Harry, Hermione, and Ron were alone. Harry began without preamble, what's really going on out there, with Voldemort? Sirius won't tell me a thing.  
  
Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. That's the thing, Hermione started, it's like... it's like nothing happened. Nothing's going on.  
  
Ron's brow furrowed as he continued. Dad say they figure You-Know-Who is marshaling his forces, making plans. Your scar hasn't been hurting, has it? he added quickly, his voice worried.  
  
No, no, it hasn't. I just wondered, since Sirius tends to be a bit overprotective. That night at Mrs. Figg's, I swear he put up at least a dozen wards....  
  
What? Mrs. Figg's? Ron was thoroughly confused.  
  
Oh, that's right, you were flying when I was telling Hermione. Mrs. Figg, that only neighbor lady, is really a witch, just a few years older than Sirius – she takes an aging potion – so I was able to see Sirius one night a few weeks ago.  
  
Ron responded. So how was your trip to Diagon Alley? Sorry we couldn't meet you, but...  
  
Harry wondered again why, exactly, he had gotten those two days of shopping, but he wasn't going to complain. Great, actually. I went into Muggle London even and got new clothes. Burned Dudley's old ones, he grinned, and Ron laughed.  
  
I like the new glasses, but....  
  
Why change? Harry shrugged. They've been broken far too many times, plus the frames were getting a bit small.  
  
That night before bed, Ron commented on Harry's new pajamas – flannel pants and a ribbed white cotton undershirt. New everything, huh?  
  
Harry shrugged, trying to downplay it. Had to. I've grown seven inches in the past six months. Not that you haven't too. Indeed, Ron was measuring 6'2 and barely slowing down, although Harry was the more muscular of the two.  
  
Ron shrugged and grinned sheepishly. You're right. So, do you think I have any chance of making Keeper?  
  
The two boys talked Quidditch late into the night before they finally fell asleep.  
  
  
It was a couple of days later when Charlie slipped a letter into Harry's hand during lunch. Harry quickly stuffed it into his pants pocket and smiled his thanks. As soon as the meal was over, Harry sprinted upstairs. Ron and Hermione had planned to going for a walk together, anyway, so Harry was assured of his privacy. Slightly nervous, he unfolded the parchment and began to read.  
  
_Harry,  
  
Charlie tells me that you and I share the same sexual preference. Good for you for realising it so soon – I went through miserable date after miserable date with (supposedly) the cutest witches until the last half of my seventh year at Hogwarts. So. Don't let anyone tell you that you are sick, ill, wrong, or any other adjective. I can understand your reluctance to tell Ron, much less the rest of my family; Charlie and Dad are the only two that know about me. Still, Ron's your best friend; you need to tell him at some point.  
  
Wizarding Britain, the younger set at least, is getting more accepting, but mainly in large settlements – Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. If you need support while at Hogwarts, work the phrase flying crooked by the lake into a conversation – faculty contact is Flitwick – let them reply, then follow up with the hedges make a prickly landing.  
  
Feel free to write with any questions; I'm going to send you a book via Charlie as well.  
  
Be well,  
  
Bill_  
  
  
Harry grinned. Here was a way, maybe, to meet others like him. He pulled out the other book he had bought at Flourish and Blotts and nestled it inside one of his new DADA texts, and sat back to read the afternoon away. It was late afternoon, nearly time for supper, when Hermione came bounding in the door.  
  
Harry? Charlie pulled Ron aside and told me to come find you, the Weasley Clan had to plan something. What're you reading?  
  
Harry reddened and slammed the book shut. Nothing. And Charlie probably thought I'd like to talk to you. He knows, by the way.  
  
Ah. I wondered. Any advice from him?  
  
Nope, but he wrote to Bill and _he_ had some. Harry grinned meaningfully.  
  
Oh! But I didn't think...  
  
Harry shook his head. They don't know; only Charlie and Mr. Weasley do.  
  
That makes sense then. So... I was wondering if you'd like me to throw Ginny off your scent somewhat. Don't worry, I won't tell her, I just thought I could, you know, suggest that I maybe thought you were.  
  
Harry thought for a moment, then shook his head. No good. She'd mention it to Ron or the twins. I'm just going to have to put up with it I think.  
  
Hermione frowned, then nodded. You're right. I wish I could do something, though. It just makes you uncomfortable and gives Ginny false hope.  
  
The two chatted about the Magical Medicine course, and Muggle Studies, when two owls flew in the window, both bearing envelopes with the Hogwarts crest. Hermione opened hers first. Oh! I'm a prefect! Wait until I tell Ron!  
  
Harry grinned and opened his more slowly. Then his jaw dropped. Apparently, so'm I. Well. Hermione, don't tell Ron or the others about me just yet, please?  
  
Secrets, secrets, Harry, Hermione teased. Not a problem.  



	3. At the Burrow

  
Harry didn't think he had ever been so nervous on September 1st as he was this year. Hermione had insisted that they get to the station early, and she was going to make him check out every single boy in fifth year and up, she said. Hermione and he were growing closer, Harry reflected. He wasn't sure if it was the gay thing or the fact that they were both prefects or even that he had urged Hermione to finally act on her feelings for Ron, and the two had been a blissfully happy couple since a couple of days after Harry had arrived at the Burrow. Consequently, Ron didn't mind a bit that Harry and Hermione spent time alone; Hermione said that since Ron was her boyfriend, Harry was, by default, her girlfriend', and the two left it at that.  
  
It was barely six a.m. when Harry woke up. He quickly got dressed – tight blue jeans, tight black t-shirt, and the same black Converse All-Stars – and made sure everything was packed in his trunk. He carried the trunk downstairs, and set Hedwig in her cage on top of the trunk before going into the kitchen.  
  
Morning, Mrs. Weasley. Anyone else up?  
  
Oh, good morning, Harry dear. Yes, yes, Hermione and Ginny are both up. They're just loading their trunks in the car now. Would you mind terribly taking yours out and helping them? I'll be getting Ron and the twins up and then we'll all have a quick bite.  
  
Mrs. Weasley was as good as her word, and Harry re-entered the house with Hermione and Ginny a mere 10 minutes later to find the table set with porridge, toast, and sausages. Charlie was halfway through his meal, and the twins and Ron joined them a few moments later.  
  
Excited about the new school year? Charlie queried.  
  
Oh, yes, definitely, Hermione replied. Fifth years get to take a new course, and of course being a prefect will be so rewarding. Harry barely kept a straight face. Hermione had agreed not to tell the others that he was a prefect for the time being; he didn't want to deal with the twins' teasing and Mrs. Weasley's proud smotherings.  
  
Fred snorted. Rewarding? That's rich, Herm, that really is. Going to let us all off though, right?  
  
Hermione's glare was stony. I can't play favorites, Fred Weasley, and you know that! She paused and took a deep breath, then smiled. I will be pleased to take points from Slytherin and Draco Malfoy, though.  
  
What new class are you taking? Charlie quickly steered the conversation in a new direction.  
  
I'm taking Magical Medicine, Ron said dully. Don't know why, but it can't be worse that Divination. Harry, what about you?  
  
Actually, I'm taking that too. And I also added one other course.  
  
What course? Why? Ron was dumbfounded.  
  
Muggle Studies. Because when I was out in Muggle London I realised there's a lot I don't know, and I rather like being able to pass as Muggle, get away from being Harry Potter, you know? Besides, it might come in handy.  
  
We'll start talking about human transfiguration this year, too, Hermione added importantly. Fred and George, what about you too?  
  
George snorted. We're going to make as many Wheezes as possible. So whatever courses help with that, we'll pay attention.  
  
The entire table laughed at that, and they finished their breakfast quickly. Harry helped Ron finish loading his trunk and the pair shoved it downstairs and into the waiting car.  
  
It was awfully nice of the Ministry to let your dad keep the car overnight as well, Harry remarked. Sure makes the morning easier.  
  
Ron nodded his agreement, and they started to walk back to the house. Harry, wait. Is there something bothering you? I mean – I feel like there's something you aren't telling me, and – you know you're my best friend, right? You can tell me anything.  
  
Harry smiled. Thanks, Ron, I appreciate it, I really do. But I think it's best if I don't tell you for now. I will, though, don't worry.  
  
Ron frowned. Alright. As long as it's nothing to do with You-Know-Who.  
  
Harry laughed. No, nothing like that. I'm fine. Ron visibly relaxed and the two walked companionably into the house.  
  
It was barely nine a.m. when the Weasleys plus Harry and Hermione made their way to King's Cross Station. The barrier will have just opened, Hermione said excitedly. We can reserve a compartment and then watch everyone come through!  
  
You mean you aren't going to sit in the prefects' car? Ron asked, startled.  
  
Hermione smiled. Course not. I wouldn't abandon you, she said sweetly, and leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. Ron flushed to a bright red, and Harry silently snickered, then sobered quickly. Ron was going to _kill_ him when he found out both of his best friends were prefects.  
  
The six Hogwarts students quickly unloaded the car, Charlie and Mrs. Weasley following with lunches and animal cages. The six decided to all sit together, and the luggage was quickly stowed away, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron returned to the platform.  
  
Now, look, really look, Harry, ordered Hermione in a whisper.  
  
Harry mock-glared at her, but allowed his vision to range over the students entering the platform. Many were too young, several were known to be in relationships, so Harry was fairly certain that they weren't gay, and of the rest, none of them made much of an impression on him. He tuned back into to his friends' conversation.  
  
So who's the other Gryffindor prefect, then, Hermione?  
  
I don't know, Ron, all I know is that it's one of you boys.  
  
Help us all if it's Neville. Can you imagine? Although I just can't see Seamus or Dean as a prefect.  
  
Harry coughed uncomfortably. Umm... I should've told you two earlier, but... I'm the other prefect.  
  
Ron stared. So THAT'S what's been bothering you! He laughed. You really had me worried, you know that? Well, hmph. I guess having my two best friends as prefects won't be too bad. I guess I'll have to take all the detentions, then?  
  
That's great, Harry! Hermione faked her reaction. We'll have so much fun!  
  
Harry smiled weakly as Hermione continued. I wonder who the prefects in the other Houses are.  
  
Ron jibed Harry a few times about being a prefect, but then let it drop as Hermione drew him slightly away to talk privately. Harry resumed looking around the platform, hopeful that he just might find someone worth looking at, at least.  
  
Harry breathed. The guy had his back to him, but he looked gorgeous. Pale blonde hair reached down below the guy's shoulders and was gathered in a ponytail. He was tall, probably about 6'1, and looked muscular. Harry dropped his gaze, desperate not to be seen staring. Why haven't I seen this guy before, Harry wondered. He was dressed in dragonhide pants and boots, and a tight black t-shirt. Harry was about to go weak in the knees when the mystery figure turned around.  
  
Harry let his eyes travel up the figure. Well equipped, he noted clinically, great abs, let's see his face – oh cripes! _Malfoy_ was the hot, sexy guy that he was checking out. Harry groaned, burying his head in his hands, and beat a hasty path towards the compartment that they had earlier reserved. He would just have to tell Hermione that it had been a bad idea and leave it at that. He cast one glance back at Dra– Malfoy! Not Draco, Malfoy! and noticed that the other boy had a gleaming prefect's badge on his chest. Great, sighed Harry to himself, just great. My bitter enemy is a hot Slytherin sex god and I'm going to have to sit in the same room with him and work with him at prefect's meetings every week. Just great.  
  
  
  
Harry re-entered the compartment where the twins and Ginny were sitting, and sighed heavily as he sat down across from George, as far away from Ginny as he could possibly get. The twins had not let up, despite his complete lack of interest and (according to Hermione) Ginny's protests.  
  
Why the long face, Harry? Fred asked. And where did my little brother and his girlfriend get off to?  
  
Harry shrugged. Dunno. I think they wanted to snog a bit or something.  
  
George spoke up then. What you need, Harry, is a distraction, and I have the perfect plan. He set about explaining to Harry the grand prank they were going to pull on the Slytherins at the feast that evening, down to how their hair would all fall out. Harry was struck by the image of Dra – MALFOY! He screamed at himself – losing that beautiful ponytail.  
  
Ah, George, I hate the Slytherins as much as anybody, but – their hair? That's going a bit too far.  
  
Hermione had entered while they were speaking. I agree. George, Fred, turn their hair red and gold or something, but let them keep it in their head.  
  
Damn prefect, ruining all the fun. You'd almost think you were one too, Harry, Fred said bitterly, at which point Harry reddened, Hermione smiled, and Ron, who had only heard the last part of the conversation, began to laugh. Harry glared at Ron as the twins put two and two together.  
  
Thanks, buddy, I owe you.  
  
Oh, oh, that's rich, Harry, it is! Harry Potter, Prefect! This is going to be a great year! chortled George. Ginny joined in the laughter as they all found seats and prepared for the train to leave the station.  
  
Halfway to Hogwarts, Hermione came over to sit by Harry. she whispered, glancing first to notice that the Weasleys were engaged in a marathon game of Exploding Snap, did you see anyone?  
  
Harry swallowed. He could never tell Hermione that he found Draco Malfoy attractive. Never! So he put on a sad face – well, he was sad, sad that the one boy he had been drawn to had turned out to be Dra- MALFOY! – and said, No, Hermione, I didn't. He sighed. I guess I'll just have to wait and be patient.  
  
Hermione smiled sympathetically. That's a great attitude to have, Harry, but I know that it can be hard to be alone. Don't let it get you down. Now, I think you and I should at least put in an appearance in the prefects' car.  
  
Harry nodded his agreement and the two slipped out into the corridor and made their way up to the front of the train.  
  
Ah, good, you're all here now, the Head Boy spoke up. This year's Head Boy was a Ravenclaw seventh year that Harry had seen occasionally around school, and the Head Girl was one of the Slytherins. Harry sat down quietly and glanced around the compartment. Ravenclaw's fifth years seemed to have three prefects, but Harry knew only Terry Boot and Parvati Patil's twin, Padma, by name. Ravenclaw, he remembered, had had a particularly large group the year that they entered. Susan Bones and Ernie MacMillian were present from Hufflepuff, and the Slytherins seemed to have only a sole representative, Draco Malfoy. Harry sighed as he glanced surreptitiously at Draco. Fine, he sighed, giving in to himself, I'll think of him as Draco. His face had matured over the summer, and his grey eyes were guarded by haunting. A pale Adonis, Harry mused. I wish he were mine. His eyes widened as he realised what he had just thought, and he turned back towards the Head Boy and Girl, resolving not to so much as glance at Draco Malfoy during the rest of the meeting.  
  
Soon, the main meeting was over, and he and Hermione met with the other Gryffindor prefects – one sixth year girl and two seventh years, one of them being Katie Bell, the Gryffindor Chaser.  
  
Hey, Harry. Hey, Hermione. Have a good summer?  
  
Aside from dealing with the twins for the last few weeks, yes, laughed Hermione.  
  
Well, we usually let the fifth year prefects make up the first passwords, just kind of as an initiation thing. You two will make up the first six. Any ideas?  
  
said Harry quickly, causing Hermione to dissolve in laughter.  
  
Katie quirked her eyebrow, and the others looked at him oddly, but quickly agreed.   
  
Any others?  
  
Hermione spoke up them. Padfoot, Moony, Prongs, Marauder... Harry, we need one more.  
  
Hmm. You've covered most of my ideas.  
  
Hermione cried.   
  
Harry laughed. Ah, fond memories.  
  
The two laughed heartily and Katie smiled. Alright, you two, I take it you will be enjoying these passwords a little too well. Will anyone else know what they mean? Besides Ron, that is?  
  
Harry grinned at her. I think that Fred and George will recognize the middle four, but they don't have a clue as to what they _really_ mean.  
  
The meeting over, Harry and Hermione returned to their compartment.  
  
Harry grinned when the Weasleys looked up. First password's Snuffles, he shared, causing Ron to choke with laughter.   
  
I take it you two had a hand in choosing the password? Ron spluttered.  
  
Harry grinned. We picked the first six, so you'll just have to wait and see what they all are.  
  
The rest of the train ride was spent playing games and snacking on Every Flavour Beans, pasties, and pumpkin juice. They disembarked at Hogsmeade and Harry and Hermione found themselves herded to the front of the line of horseless carriages.   
  
Prefects ride up front, Hermione explained as they climbed into one, joining Padma Patil. The fourth seat remained empty until Draco Malfoy entered, taking a long look around.   
  
Damn, he's hot, thought Harry, then quashed the thought down. The year would be hellish if he didn't learn to control his thoughts.   
  
Mind if I sit here? Malfoy asked, his voice lower and missing its usual scorn.  
  
Harry started in surprise. Draco, being somewhat polite? This was new. He merely shrugged, and inclined his head.   
  
Potter. Granger. Patil. Draco inclined his head towards each of them in turn, then settled back into the seat and closed his eyes, leaving the other occupants stunned.  
  
Is that really Malfoy? Hermione's eyes asked Harry, and he could only shrug in response. Not the Malfoy he knew, certainly. Something drastic must've changed Draco over the summer, in more ways than one.  
  
They reached the castle in short order and all the prefects were escorted to seats near the front of the room at their respective tables. What was up with Malfoy, do you think, Harry?  
  
Harry shrugged. Dunno. Why we're supposed to sit up here?  
  
So we'll be the ones closest to the first-years. Honestly, Harry, if you'd just read _Hogwarts: A History_, then you would know all of this.  
  
I reckon I don't have to, since you already have, Harry shot back, grinning impudently, pleased with Hermione's outraged expression. Further conversation was cut short when the rest of the school arrived and Ron quickly joined them.  
  
Honestly, that was a nightmare. Stuck in a carriage with Neville, Dean, and Seamus. Neville seems clumsier than ever and he kept turning bright red for no reason. Not that he couldn't have had a reason; Dean and Seamus were all over each other.  
  
All over each other? Harry raised an eyebrow.  
  
Yeah, as in, they're gay, I guess. I don't know. I just hope they aren't – you know – _looking_ at me.  
  
Well, if they're together, I doubt it, Hermione interjected. Do you have something against gays, then, Ron? Harry was shooting Hermione an anguished look even as she spoke.  
  
Er, well... Ron seemed to notice the slight warning look in Hermione's eyes that warned of an impending argument. He swallowed, seeming to change what he was going to say. No, no, it's just not my, ah, cup of tea, he added quickly, and it was patently obvious what he was thinking as he looked at Hermione.  
  
Harry cleared his throat. _Some_ of us still want to eat, you two.  
  
Ron flushed and Hermione glared, and then the new crop of students was led in by McGonagall. They look so _young_, Hermione whispered. Hard to believe that _we_ were that small.  
  
And that we went after the Philosopher's Stone when we were that small, Ron added.  
  
Silent now, the three friends watched as the new students were Sorted. Gryffindor and Slytherin each gained only ten students, while Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw each had groups of nearly 40. I suppose it's because of the times, Harry thought morosely. Few people willing to stick their neck out either way. He chanced a glance over at the Slytherin table. Draco looked frustrated, bored, and just a tiny bit... scared? Surely not, Harry thought. Must be the light playing tricks on me. So, Hermione, did you tell Ron about Malfoy?  
  
What about him?  
  
He rode up to the castle with us. Asked if he could sit with us, acknowledged us, and then just sat back. No insults, nothing.  
  
Huh. Must be up to something. I don't trust him at all, even if he is trying to pick up more chicks than that Parkinson.  
  
What are you on about, Ron?  
  
C'mon, Hermione, don't be daft. That new look he's concocted. Ginny says some of her friends were all talking about how much hotter he looked. I figure he had enough brains to be sick of Parkinson and is hoping to find someone who'll forget who he is and what he's like.  
  
I would gladly forget, thought Harry, before he suppressed the thought.  
  
Hermione was laughing. Ron, you are so blind. I don't think it's girls he's trying to attract.  
  
Harry just stared, trying to be casual. Did Hermione just say...  
  
What are you saying, Hermione, that he's GAY? I'm sure that Malfoys are NOT gay. Good lord, what is this place this year? First Dean and Seamus, now Malfoy.  
  
Hermione laughed again, but Harry heard the tiny nervous tickle in her voice. That would explain why he's nice all of the sudden, hmm? His father probably wouldn't be too happy about it. I'm pretty sure, now that I think about it. My uncle's gay, you know, and so is... another friend of mine, and, well, it makes sense, Ron, it really does.  
  
What do you think, Harry? Ron asked demandingly.  
  
Uh, I, uh, I don't know, Ron. I suppose he could be. Gay, that is. But I wouldn't know. Completely flustered by Ron's reaction to all the gayness' around him and Ron's question, Harry tried to beat a hasty retreat. He definitely wasn't ready to tell Ron. Definitely not.  
  
Harry swallowed some pumpkin juice then, we have far more important things to consider than Malfoy's sexual orientation, don't you think? Ron agreed, and the conversation shifted to other topics. The problem was, Harry reflected, was that Malfoy's sexual orientation suddenly DID seem rather important to him.  
  
That night, Harry went to bed relatively early, and lay awake for several hours. He was still having a hard enough time accepting that he was gay without trying to accept that he could possibly find Draco Malfoy even somewhat attractive. So, first things first, he decided. Take things rationally. Be fully comfortable with being gay, come out to Ron at least, before even considering Draco Malfoy. Feeling somewhat better, Harry fell asleep at last.  



	4. Moony & Padfoot

Timetable's are already handed out, Hermione informed Harry when he stumbled down to breakfast the next morning, having slept late. It's not pretty. Hagrid's not back, so there's no Care of Magical Creatures class indefinitely. We've got Magical Medicine, Muggle Studies, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts all with the Slytherins.  
  
Harry groaned. Two classes would've been bad enough, but now four? And prefect meetings beside. His decision of the night before was going to be more difficult than he thought.  
  
Who's the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, then? Harry asked. There wasn't anyone here last night.  
  
Hermione looked up and smiled. I don't know for sure, but last night was a full moon, and I'm almost positive I heard some howls late last night.  
  
Harry's eyes lit up. Do you really think – ?  
  
Well, we'll find out right after lunch today, Hermione said brightly, but Harry stood.   
  
I'm going to go see now, Harry said, quickly stuffing a couple of pieces of toast in his mouth. Sirius told me some things that I'd like to ask Lupin about.  
  
But Harry... Hermione protested, but Harry was already half out of the hall. He quickened his stride as he ran up the stairs towards where the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's offices were. He stopped outside the door and knocked lightly.   
  
came a small voice that Harry recognized immediately.  
  
Professor Lupin, he said quietly, smiling as he stepped in and closed the door behind him.  
  
Harry! It's good to see you. I should've known to expect a visit. Lupin looked weak from the previous night's transformation, but was smiling broadly. My boyfriend told me a little bit about your summer, you know.  
  
Harry grinned. How is Padfoot?  
  
Doing fine, Lupin returned the grin. Actually he came by last night for a little midnight fun; he's asleep in my quarters now. He was going to come find you at lunch and surprise you. Tell you what, act surprised for him, please?  
  
Sure thing. The rest of the school is wondering about our new DADA teacher, you know. Hermione figured it out, of course.  
  
Should've figured that she would be the one. By the way, Harry, except for when we're in class, call me Moony or Remus one, would you? You... well, you used to call me Moony.  
  
I... I did?  
  
Moony nodded. You knew, oh, about 10 words or so, I think. Mummy, Daddy, Pafah, Moony...  
  
Pafah? Oh, Padfoot. But not...?  
  
No, not Wormtail. Now, I imagine you have to get to class. If you need to talk about anything, the door's always open.  
  
Thanks... Moony. The pair exchanged grins and Harry headed down the stairs to Potions. He arrived just moments before the start of class.  
  
hissed Hermione. Where have you been?  
  
Talking with Moony, Harry grinned. Got lots to tell you two. Later.  
  
Snape swept into the room then, beginning his lecture at once. Luckily the first week was going to be solely lecture and no concoctions, leaving Harry a chance to let down his guard somewhat. He scribbled notes frantically throughout the period, and then dashed with his classmates up the stairs to Transfiguration, where McGonagall droned on about the dangers of human transfiguration. Charms and History of Magic followed, and then it was finally, blessedly, time for lunch. Harry loaded up his plate and chatted amiably with many of his housemates, idly wondering how many of them would still talk to him if they knew he was gay. Then, near the end of the meal, Harry felt a wet nose on his hand.  
  
Snuffles! Hey, what're you doing here?  
  
Ron and Hermione greeted the large black dog as well, before it motioned for Harry to follow it out of the hall. Harry stood up and followed the dog that was Sirius out of the hall, up the stairs, and into the Gryffindor common room, which was completely empty. The dog shimmered and Sirius stood in its place.  
  
Harry! It's good to see you, Sirius exclaimed as he gathered Harry up into a large hug. Harry relaxed in his godfather's presence as the two talked happily about the rest of Harry's summer since they had seen each other last, and Harry's plan to tell Ron someday' about him being gay.  
  
Do you think I could tell him about you and M – Professor Lupin? Just to kind of, I don't know, break the ice somewhat?  
  
Sirius sat and thought for a moment. I don't see why not. Neither of us are exactly shy about our sexual preferences anyway.  
  
Shortly after that, Harry had to run to get to DADA, and Padfoot loped along beside him.  
  
He skidded up to the door, startled when he realised the rest of the class, Gryffindors and Slytherins, was standing outside as well.  
  
The professor isn't here, Seamus explained. Whoever it is.  
  
Harry grinned. You'll be pleased, trust me. He walked over to the office door and knocked. Oi! Professor Lupin! I found your tame mutt wandering around!  
  
Padfoot growled, and Hermione giggled, the implications hitting her, while Ron merely widened his eyes in confusion. The door swung open to reveal Remus, laughter on his face.  
  
Thank you, Harry. Padfoot, in the office. Now, class, if we can go into the classroom....  
  
whispered Seamus. This is awesome.  
  
Totally cool, echoed Dean. We get a decent DADA teacher again.  
  
The general mood among the Gryffindors was exuberant, and even the Slytherins acknowledged that they would benefit from having Lupin instead of a raving lunatic like Lockhart or an impostor like the Barty Crouch/Mad-Eye Moody person from the year before. The class sat down and quietly waited on Professor Lupin.  
  
Hello again. I must say it's nice to be back here, teaching all of you again. I remember your names, for the most part, so let's just get started, shall we?  
  
Lupin led the class through a review of all the material they were expected to have covered through their fourth year, and assigned essays on the topics that had not been covered. I realise that you are not to blame for the gaps in your education, but I must rectify the situation. You will take your O.W.L.s this year, and beyond that, the situation in the world is such that any knowledge you can gain will be of benefit to you.   
  
Harry scowled at that, knowing the truth of it, and glanced at the Slytherins. Many of them looked shocked, but several wore sneers, and Draco... Draco simply stared straight ahead, hurt and fear etched in his eyes. Am I the only one that see that? Harry wondered. Now, STOP! Stop thinking about Draco Malfoy. Time enough to deal with that some other time... hopefully some other time that's far in the future.  
  



	5. So You Say I'm an Aberration...

It was a couple of weeks into term before Harry had an opportunity to talk to Hermione and Ron about his godfather and Moony. For one thing, it brought things that much closer to telling Ron about his _own_ sexual preferences, and from there it didn't seem as far to the point where he had to deal with... well. That didn't really even bear thinking about. So it was that on a dreary September day, Harry found himself walking by the lake with Ron and Hermione.  
  
I forgot to tell you all something before. Remember when I went to see Moony on the first day of class? We were talking about Sirius and Moony let it slip that they're, well, together. Have been since their sixth year here, can you believe it? Anyway, that's part of the reason Sirius was here, and he'll be here alot more often this year. Harry grinned, partially because of the look on Ron's face, but mainly because he knew he'd get to see his godfather a lot more often this year.  
  
Sirius and... and... Professor Lupin? Ron stammered out.  
  
It does make a lot of sense, doesn't it? Hermione added. Think about how they reacted in the Shrieking Shack... and Dumbledore told Sirius to lie low at Lupin's over the summer. That's incredible, really, to have endured through so much. So you really have two godfathers, then, Harry!  
  
Yeah, I guess I do, don't I? Sirius said it was okay to tell the two of you, since obviously we aren't about to go sharing the fact that we're in touch with an escaped convict who, by the way, we helped escape, and, incidentally, he's in love with one of our professors. Harry laughed softly. Then he noticed that Ron's face was changing from registering shock to... disgust?   
  
That's... that's bloody disgusting is what it is! I know, I pretend to be okay with Seamus and Dean, but honestly, it's a bloody aberration! I don't care what they say about it being some kind of bloody predetermined thing, it's a choice and all the fags should just have a good shag with a cute witch until they're cured of their, their, their SICKNESS. I can't believe that the two of you are actually accepting of this! Don't you know what they do, what they are? It's DISGUSTING.  
  
Harry's eyes showed hurt at first, but it quickly turned to anger. So that's how it is. You're no better than Vernon Dursley or Lucius Malfoy, you know that? All three of you, some obscure prejudice based on absolutely nothing. So you think gay people are disgusting, sick, and need to be cured? I'll be sure to tell Sirius to take Pig back, and tell Seamus and Dean not to trust you. Moony'll hear about this too, and I know some other people who will be _very _ interested in your opinion. But you needn't worry about being my friend anymore, Ronald Weasley. I stand by what I said. You are no better than Lucius Malfoy. With that, Harry spat on the ground near Ron's feet, and strode off quickly for the tower.  
  
Hermione turned to Ron, eyes blazing. I don't know who you think you are, Ron Weasley, but you can forget about being my friend AND my boyfriend. Harry's right. She turned then and stalked away, following slowly behind Harry.  
  
Harry entered the castle and went directly to the common room, where Seamus and Dean were sitting on a couch talking. Harry sat down across from them. Do either of you know anything about Flitwick and flying crooked by the lake?  
  
Seamus started, and Dean narrowed his eyes. Why exactly do you ask?  
  
I hear the hedges make a prickly landing, or something like that. That and the fact that Ronald Weasley is no better than the Malfoys he hates. Apparently, being gay is something that is sick' and needs to cured' with a good shag'.  
  
The pair's eyes widened. Oh my god, Harry, you didn't tell him you were....  
  
No, I didn't. I told him about Moony and Padfoot. That was enough to set him off.  
  
Moony and Padfoot? Seamus and Dean were clearly confused.  
  
Come up to the dorm and let me show you something. The trio was headed for the stairs when Hermione came bursting in the portrait hole.  
  
Harry! There you are. I just broke up with him, the stupid prat. I assume he thinks I'm nasty too, since my uncle's gay.  
  
Seamus and Dean merely stared, completely shaken by the events of the past five minutes. Come up with us, Hermione. I was going to tell Seamus and Dean a few things, and they might not believe me, you know.  
  
Hermione smiled slightly. I wouldn't believe you if I hadn't been there for most of them. The four tramped up the stairs and settled on Harry's bed as he drew out the Marauder's Map.  
  
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. The familiar greetings appeared on the page from the Marauders. There were four boys in Gryffindor who made this map, about 18 years ago. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. It was confiscated, and Fred and George filched it from Filch a few years back. They gave it to me back in third year when I couldn't go to Hogsmeade. It shows all the secret passages in Hogswarts as well as where everyone is. Professor Snape found it once and it insulted him. He remembered the nicknames and called for the one professor who might know where I had gotten it or how to work it – Professor Lupin.  
  
Professor Lupin confiscated it that night, and told me only than the manufacturers would have wanted to lure me out of school. It wasn't until the night that Sirius was captured that we found out he knew how to work it. He knew how to work it because he was – _is_ Moony.  
  
Seamus asked.  
  
Harry smiled. Remember, Moony's a werewolf.  
  
Ah. You call him Moony?  
  
I'll get to that in a bit. Moony saw a name on the Map that shouldn't have been there – Peter Pettigrew, who was thought killed by Sirius Black twelve years before. He watched the map as Pettigrew's Animagus form and his owner were dragged by Padfoot down into the Whomping Willow, along this secret passage, to the Shrieking Shack. You see, Moony's three best friends had all become illegal Animagi, so that they could be with him when he transformed. One of them was Peter Pettigrew, and his Animagus form was a rat. Scabbers, in fact. We found out that he had really killed all those Muggles, as well as... I'll get to that in a moment. Another one of them was Sirius Black. Padfoot. Sirius is also my godfather. Finally, Prongs.  
  
Here Harry sighed heavily, and Hermione took over the explanation. Prongs was a giant stag, and the fourth member of the little group. Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and James Potter.  
  
Sirius was supposed to be the Secret-Keeper for my family, but he thought he was too obvious, and the three of them decided to use Peter instead. Little Peter, who just happened to be in league with Voldemort. A week after the spell was cast, Voldemort showed up on the doorstep, and... well, you know the rest.  
  
Seamus and Dean looked stunned. So. Moony and Padfoot. Padfoot must be the big black dog. And they're together?  
  
Have been since their sixth year. Amazing, huh?  
  
That's incredibly awesome, Harry! So I take it that was a, uh, test run, so to speak?  
  
Harry nodded. Yeah. Bill pretty much advised that course of action. Not that he's told anyone but Charlie and his dad.  
  
Dean's eyes grew very big and Seamus sniggered. Oh, bloody hell, I'd love to see his face when he realises all of that!  
  
The four chatted companionably throughout the afternoon, with repeated attempts by all of them to discover if Harry like anyone in particular (he insisted he didn't), and offers to set Hermione up with someone else.  
  
If it's a Weasley you fancy, I wager you could get George. Or Ginny, for that matter, Dean suggested.  
  
Hermione was extremely startled. Hey! It's not contagious you know!  
  
The three boys laughed, and Harry jumped up then. Let's go down to dinner. I think I'd like to put one of the final nails in Ron's coffin. He built it himself, you know, but...  
  
The quartet sauntered out of the dorm and down through the common room, where they drew some decidedly odd looks. Not that they were unfriendly with each other, but it was an unusual arrangement to be sure. They entered the Great Hall and moved to sit at the opposite end of the table from Ron, who was talking to his brothers about Quidditch. Harry got up and deliberately walked over to them.  
  
Hello, Fred, George, Harry said civilly, smiling. About ready for Quidditch practise to start next week?  
  
Sure thing, Harry, the twins replied.  
  
Oh, and there's something you all three should know. Especially you, _Lucius_. I'm disgusting, sick, and abnormal, too.  
  
With that, he turned on his heel, leaving Ron staring after him, revulsion written on his face, while Fred and George jumped up and ran after him.  
  
Harry. What was that about?  
  
Ask your brother. Apparently people like me are an... aberration, I believe his word was.  
  
The twins blanched. Wait a second...  
  
Are you talking about... flying crooked –  
  
– by the lake –  
  
– with a prickly landing in the hedges?  
  
Harry nodded and smiled bitterly. Yes. Are you two, then?  
  
Yes, but who told you the code?  
  
Your oldest brother, Harry smiled. Charlie had him write to me. Hermione knows too, and now Seamus and Dean. Oh, and Professor Lupin. Harry grinned. Moony's been with the same git since sixth year here. I don't know why he puts up with Padfoot.  
  
Fred and George both had their jaws somewhere around the vicinity of their knees at this point. Moony and... and... Padfoot? The _Marauders_ Moony and Padfoot?  
  
Harry grinned as the twins sat down on either side of him as he rejoined Hermione, Seamus, and Dean. Prongs was my dad, Moony is Professor Lupin, and Padfoot is my godfather. Wormtail is the rat who turned out to be a traitor and is directly responsible for my parents' deaths.  
  
Whoa. We should hang out with you more, Harry. Any other wild secrets?  
  
Harry grinned at Hermione and the pair proceeded to tell Fred, George, Dean, and Seamus about some of their exploits – Baby Norbert, the invisibility cloak, Polyjuice Potion, the list went on, the other four laughing appreciatively throughout dinner. None of them noticed Ron glowering at them with hatred, and none of them noticed when he stalked out of the hall. Finally kicked out of the room, Harry separated from his friends.  
  
I should really go talk to Moony, he stated, and a sad smile ghosted across his face. Besides, Padfoot might be there. The others grinned and waved as he headed off in the opposite direction. Harry's steps, so lighthearted on the way to dinner, turned heavy. Yes, he had enjoyed dinner. Yes, it was nice to get to know Seamus, Dean, and even Fred and George better. But at what a cost! Ron was his best friend, his very best friend in the world, but he was no better than Lucius Malfoy, really. He hated Harry because of who Harry was. Harry loved Ron like a brother – had loved him, he corrected himself. And Ron was willing to throw everything away. It hurt Harry deeply, to the core of his being, and he knew it would take awhile to get over it, if he ever did.  
  
He reached Moony's apartments and knocked three times.  
  
Come in, Harry, Lupin called, and Harry opened the door and stepped inside. What's wrong?  
  
Harry sighed. If Sirius is around at all, I'd rather not repeat this twice.  
  
Of course. Moony crossed the room and went down the hall, returning a few minutes later, a bleary-eyed Sirius following him. Sirius' eyes widened when he saw Harry's face.   
  
Oh my god, you told him, didn't you?  
  
Well, yes, eventually, but that... that was just me finishing everything off, since he made it abundantly clear that it was disgusting to be gay, and I was disgusting for being even tolerant of people being gay. I told him off, and spent the rest of the afternoon with Hermione, Dean, and Seamus. Hermione dumped him, he added.  
  
Then at dinner, I went over and told him I was gay too. I compared him to Vernon Dursley and Lucius Malfoy – unreasonable prejudice and all that. But he was still my best friend, you know?  
  
Oh, Harry, Sirius murmured, crossing the room and holding Harry tightly as he gradually relaxed and then began to sob.   
  



	6. Queerditch

  
Harry groaned as he woke up. He had fallen asleep on the couch in Moony's living room. Luckily it was Sunday, so he wasn't expected to be present anywhere particular. He stumbled into the bathroom and splashed water on his face before pulling his shoes back on and writing a quick note, explaining that he was going back to Gryffindor Tower to clean up. Leaving the apartments, Harry first swung by the kitchens and grabbed some toast before entering the common room.  
  
Ron was sitting by the fire, and Harry glowered at the back of his head as he stalked up the stairs. After he had showered, he pulled on his dragonhide pants and boots and put on a black shirt with spandex. He glanced at his reflection, shrugged, and went to his trunk to retrieve his contacts, and put them in. Satisfied, Harry sat on his bed and drew the curtains, working on his weekend homework until lunch time.  
  
When it was time for lunch, Harry put his books away, checked his reflection, and headed down to the common room, where Seamus, Dean, and Hermione were sitting. Harry! We were just waiting for you... wow!  
  
Harry flushed slightly.   
  
Seamus grinned. Let's just say you're going to be breaking a lot of hearts today. Dean and Hermione nodded their agreement and Harry rolled his eyes as the four stepped out of the portrait hole and down the corridors to lunch.  
  
It was safe to say that Hogwarts proper was starting to get the idea that all was not right in Gryffindor Tower. Last night, Ron Weasley had been eating by himself, and he had been pointedly ignored by his own brothers, his girlfriend, and two members of his house at breakfast. Now, he was sitting alone, talking to Neville Longbottom, and Seamus, Dean, Fred, George, and Hermione swept in, followed by some really hot guy that no one recognized at first.  
  
Slowly, though, the room realised who it was. Harry Potter! was the whisper traveling the rounds. Harry heard the buzz of whispers that started, and he figured they were about him. Fine, then, he thought. Let them talk. He wondered idly how long before the rest of Gryffindor and then Hogwarts learned that he was gay. He assumed that Ron would be spreading the word as quickly as possible.  
  
Surprisingly, however, Ron kept quiet about Harry, and the only rumors swirling around Harry were of the heterosexual nature – he had a girl he wanted to impress, they said. Harry snorted, recalling Hermione's observation of Draco at the beginning of the term. You don't dress the way Draco and I do to attract girls, he thought bemusedly. Boys, yes. Girls, no. Harry rather enjoyed the admiration though, and sent an owl off to Diagon Alley to order more dragonhide pants and different colors of spandex shirts.   
  
After a couple of weeks passed, the rest of Hogwarts slowly adjusted to the fact that, for unknown reasons, the only other Gryffindor fifth-years talking to Ron Weasley were Neville Longbottom and Parvati Patil. Even Ron's older brothers refused to talk to him. There were all sorts of rumors flying around the castle as to why, exactly, this was the case, but none of them hinted at the truth, and Harry was quite thankful. He had enough to deal with, between lessons, Quidditch, and the ever-present threat of Voldemort.  
  
  
In fact, the first Quidditch match of the season was coming up, and Gryffindor would be facing Hufflepuff. Harry still had residual guilt over Cedric Diggory's death and he had essentially avoided any but the most formal interactions with anyone from Hufflepuff House. Facing them on the Quidditch pitch was going to be moderately hellish for Harry's psyche. Not to mention that with even just a bit of Magical Medicine under his belt, he was much more aware of what exactly happened when Bludgers crunched and bodies were battered. It wasn't a pleasant reality to be aware of in the least.  
  
As a result of all of those factors, plus the fact that they had to replace their keeper with Dean Thomas, who still thought some of the finer points of soccer should be integrated with Quidditch, plus the fact that this was Harry's first stint as Team Captain, all combined to make him nervous for a week leading up to the game. To be fair, they should've had Ron be Keeper – he was the superior player. However, with the entire team angry with him, even if the girls didn't know why, precisely, it had been decided that it wasn't a prudent course of action. The decision had only further inflamed Ron, of course, but Harry & Co. could only shrug and continue on.   
  
The morning before the match, Harry was up early. It was evident that he was nervous when he came down to breakfast. He had thrown on a white t-shirt and wrinkled light blue jeans, and it was obvious that he hadn't even looked in the mirror. Harry Potter wasn't completely vain, but he had begun to take some pride in his appearance, and he definitely hadn't given it a second thought this morning. Hermione pursed her lips worriedly as she looked at him.  
  
Harry, dear, honestly. I know that Quidditch is nerve-wracking, and, yes, I do remember every single reason why this is worse than usual, but, dear, you look positively awful compared to normal. Now, after you eat breakfast, you go upstairs and change!  
  
Harry just stared at her for a moment, while the twins began to laugh. Finally Harry cracked a small smile. Worried that I can't find a shag looking like this,   
It was Hermione's turn to stare, while Dean and Seamus, who had just walked up, had joined the twins in laughter.  
  
Well, if the homosexual contingent of the Gryffindor Quidditch team is done with breakfast, let's go collect the heterosexuals and get down to the pitch, Harry said a few moments later. And, yes, Hermione, I'll fix my appearance. He pulled out his wand and muttered an ironing spell at his jeans, then tucked the t-shirt into his pants and dyed it black with another spell. Finally, he ran his hands through his hair, smoothing it down slightly.   
  
Much. Good luck, boys.  
  
The four stood and trooped off, collecting Katie, Angelina, and Angela as they headed out the door.  
  
Harry began to feel better as the team walked down to the changing room, talking easily amongst themselves. They changed into their robes and Harry was about to review their strategy when Katie stood on one of the benches.   
  
Alright, you four. We Chasers want to know what exactly has gone on lately. We've supported you guys because we have no reason not to, but an explanation would be nice.  
  
Harry sighed and grimaced slightly. The short version is, Ron finds people like the four of us to be disgusting aberrations that are sick and need to be cured by shagging a cute witch repeatedly.  
  
Katie's jaw dropped, and Angelina's mouth had formed a little O'.  
  
Angela was the first one to speak. So you're all gay then. Well. That does make more sense. We're actually all bisexual, so I can't see him approving of that either. She smiled. We're the Gryffindor Queerditch Team.  
  
Harry snorted, and then the room erupted in laughter. Shags for all! Fred shouted gleefully. Fags for Victory! The shouting of horrible slogans continued for quite awhile until the team fell silent, out of breath from giggling so hard.   
  
I think it's nearly time. Let's go kick some Hufflepuff arse, shall we? It's not cute enough to shag.  
  
The team followed Harry out onto the pitch and the match began, Harry circling lazily far above the pitch. He saw Hermione cheering widely, and Ron scowling as he sat near the top of the stands. Moony was there, as well, and Padfoot came along – as a dog, of course, but that was better than not having his godfather there at all. Harry was proud of his team that day. Fred and George turned in yet another superb performance, Katie, Angelina, and Angela scored repeatedly, and Dean turned in a performance that surpassed Harry's wildest dreams. Even Ron had never done so well that Harry knew of. All the while, Harry scanned the skies for the Snitch. About 45 minutes into the game, he saw it – not far behind the Hufflepuff Seeker. Desperate, Harry pretended to see it below him, and headed into a dive. Once the Hufflepuff was following him at a fast rate, Harry pulled up abruptly and headed straight for the Snitch, capturing it before the Hufflepuff Seeker could even pull out of the dive. The crowd roared as the rest of the team zoomed towards Harry. After the events of the last year, and being prevented from playing Quidditch for over a year, the victory was especially sweet. Automatically, Harry scanned the stands again. Padfoot was howling while Moony cheered wildly, Hermione was screaming excitedly, Ron had disappeared, and... Harry allowed himself one glance at the Slytherin stands. God he looks hot, Harry thought. Draco's hair was even longer now, and he was wearing dragonhide from head to toe. His arms were crossed, but his lips were twitched upwards, almost like a smile. Well, that's different, thought Harry. Never thought I'd see the day he'd be so much as amused at a Gryffindor win. Indeed, though the rest of his house was booing, Draco was silent, and looked almost pleased. Harry mentally shrugged, pushing the sexy Slytherin stud (as he'd taken to calling him) out of his mind and concentrating on the fact that Gryffindor had just won a huge victory over Hufflepuff, easily giving them a substantial lead in the contest for the Quidditch Cup.  
  
Fred and George pulled him aside in the locker room as they changed. We were going to slip into Hogsmeade for party supplies, but considering that we know about the Marauders and all now, would you like to join us?  
  
Harry grinned. Sure. But forget about hitting on me in the passageway. Fred and George looked startled. You're very transparent, you know, he added as they headed back to the castle. Harry ran up into Gryffindor Tower and retrieved his cloak and the Map, then slipped back down to the corridor with the one-eyed witch, where he joined the twins. They hurried along the passageway, Harry telling Fred and George some of the stories that Sirius and Moony had told him about the Marauders' exploits. They emerged under Honeydukes and left some Galleons in exchange for the candy and butterbeers that were placed near the trapdoor. Flush with success, they returned to Gryffindor Tower, where the seven team members held a quick conference.  
  
We want to tell the Gryffindors at least that we are gay, Fred started, speaking for himself and George.  
  
Dean grinned. Everyone already knows about me, anyway.  
  
The girls were thoughtful, then, one by one, they shrugged their acquiescence. Could be interesting, having an entire team come out at once, Angelina remarked.  
  
What about it Harry? Katie added.  
  
Harry shrugged, then grinned. Fine. But I want to put on something more attractive than these old jeans first.  
  
That's our Harry! the twins cried as Harry went to his dormitory quickly and slipped into the now-familar dragonhide pants and boots. Harry paused, then threw on a scarlet silk shirt, buttoning it up only halfway and tucking it in to his pants. He glanced at his reflection for a bit, smoothing his hair and wondering idly if growing it out would help it to look better. No... couldn't look too much like he was imitating Draco. Harry sighed, and headed back downstairs, where he joined the rest of the team on top of the largest table.  
  
Attention please! As your Quidditch Team Captain, it is my duty to inform you that the seven of us have come to an important decision today, just before the match. Harry paused, scanning the room. Hermione's eyes were slightly wide but there was an impish grin on her face; the twins or Dean must've told her and Seamus what was going on. Ron was in the corner, wearing his now-omnipresent scowl, and Ginny was sitting exactly halfway between Ron and her older brothers. She had been doing that since the whole thing began, dividing herself and her time completely in half. Harry took a deep breath. We've decided to rename ourselves. Henceforth we will be known as the Gryffindor QUEERditch Team!  
  
Hermione and Seamus began clapping and hooting wildly, while Ron's look turned to absolute disgust and loathing as he strode out of the room. Ginny looked at him, then back at her brothers and Harry, and suddenly understood. She, too, began clapping and cheering, and soon the whole common room was chattering excitedly with their now-openly gay Quidditch team. Only two or three others had left in disgust, and Harry privately felt that they probably were jealous of one or the other of them; besides, they were only second years. The rest of the evening was spent partying and talking to many of Harry's fellow Gryffindors, most of whom were excited about the openness the team had. A few wanted to set him up with some other boys, but Harry managed to dissuade them.  
  
Harry rode high on the euphoria of that Quidditch match for several weeks. Although he was fully outed to Gryffindor House, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement not to spread it around the rest of Hogwarts yet that the entirety of their Quidditch team was, well, queer. Most of Gryffindor was convinced that it would only be fodder for Malfoy and his Slytherin cronies to use against Harry, but Harry privately wasn't convinced. Draco hadn't been mean to a single Gryffindor all year long. No Mudblood remarks, no cracks about the Weasleys, no comments on Harry's scar or his dead parents. Harry didn't know what had changed Draco, but he was almost certain that he was gay also, and that he might have changed on the inside more than Harry would've thought possible. All of these facts and opinions made it all the more difficult for Harry to continue denying his attraction to Draco.  



	7. The Waiting Is the Hardest Part

  
Soon, however, events transpired that made it easy to forget Draco. Harry woke one day a couple of weeks before Christmas holidays with a splitting headache, and vague memories of a dream. Together, they meant only one thing – Voldemort. Harry checked his watch – three a.m. – and got up, grabbing his wand and murmuring _Lumos_ in the dark. Quickly he grabbed some parchment and wrote down everything he could remember, and then he grabbed the invisibility cloak and headed out of Gryffindor Tower.  
  
Reaching the teacher's quarters, Harry paused. Should he go to Moony (and possibly Padfoot) or Dumbledore? Harry was inclined to visit Moony first, especially considering the time of night that it was. Mind made up, he headed for the familiar door, and knocked three times.  
  
Harry? What – ? Oh. Moony's voice could be heard inside, and then Harry heard him walk to the door and open it.  
  
It's Voldemort. I think he's on the move, or something. I wrote it all down, and here he procured the parchment, but it wasn't as clear as it normally is.  
  
Moony frowned. Hmm. I can't say that I like this at all, seeing as it's been what, since the summer? that you had a dream.  
  
Harry nodded.   
  
Well, I'll go see Dumbledore first thing in the morning and talk to him. Now, go on, get yourself back to bed. Remus grinned lovingly at the boy he considered to be his godson and Harry smiled back as he turned back towards his own dormitory and his own bed.  
  
The next morning, Harry told Hermione, Seamus, and Dean about the dream he had had, and they filled in Fred, George, Lee, Katie, Angelina, Angela, and Ginny when they all headed down to breakfast. Strange how coming out gained me more friends, Harry mused, but lost me my best one. The eleven Gryffindors discussed the possible meanings of the dream throughout breakfast and they were just standing up to go to class when Moony approached Harry.  
  
Harry, Dumbledore wants to see you now. He glanced at the others. I assume you told them? The other ten nodded concertedly. Alright, two of you come with us, but that's it.  
  
Hermione immediately stood up, leaving the other nine staring at each other. It should be either Seamus or Dean, we need someone in Harry's dorm, Fred said decisively. The two boys looked at each other and shrugged, and Dean stood up.   
  
I'll go, since I'm in Quidditch as well. That decided, the odd quartet departed the great hall. They walked in silence up the staircases to Dumbledore's office, and they all filed in somberly.  
  
Harry. Hermione. Dean. Dumbledore greeted each of them in turn. I want to extend my condolences on recent events and your relationship with Mr. Weasley. I regret it came to that difficulty; frankly, we on the staff expected better from him.  
  
Harry merely nodded stiffly as they sat down, Hermione and Dean taking in the surroundings of the office.  
  
Well. I have looked at your account of your dream from last night, Harry, and I have combined it with other information we have at our disposal. We believe that Voldemort and Wormtail are attempting to gain access to the castle through the secret passages Wormtail knew of as a student. Moony stiffened visibly, and a shudder ran through Harry involuntarily. We cannot be sure, obviously, of the date or specific nature of the attack, but we have reason to believe it will most likely be after the Christmas holidays rather than before. Still, it reminds us that too many of our students are woefully unprepared to defend themselves. Dumbledore paused, and glanced at Moony, who cleared his throat.  
  
What he means is, we're going to be having extra classes. The students will generally be hand-picked. The large group of you in Gryffindor, several students from other houses. In light of present circumstances, however, we're going to have to leave Ron Weasley out of the classes.  
  
Harry nodded. I understand. The other two nodded as well, all three expressions sad. Ron had been a friend for four years, and it was still painful that Ron's own unreasonable hatred was causing this split. Dumbledore shared a few other aspects of his plan before he sent the three of them off to class, giving specific instructions to each of them on dealing with potential scenarios. Lost in thought, they arrived at Transfiguration over fifteen minutes late. Ron sneered at them as they entered, and McGonagall's face was disapproving, even as she read the note from Dumbledore and Lupin. Sighing, she resumed lecturing, while Harry's thoughts were elsewhere.  
  
So Voldemort thinks he can attack Hogwarts, does he, Harry mused. I think he'll find that we put up a tougher fight than he might wager for – especially after some of us have had these special classes! It'd be bloody brilliant if we learned how to become Animagi as well. I s'pose I could take a leaf out of my dad's book and do it on my own. Hmmm. Harry continued to muse over this new news of the war throughout the day.  
  
  
Christmas was a strained affair, as the only Gryffindors in the tower were the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione. Harry was on edge because of the impending attack from Voldemort, and Ron stalked around the tower angrily throughout the break. The only positive part of Christmas was that he still got a Weasley jumper and candy from Mrs. Weasley, same as every other year, as well as getting gifts from Fred and George for the first time.  
  
Classes restarted, and Harry was disappointed that the special classes would not include learning to become Animagi, although the curses, hexes, and counter-curses would be helpful at some point, Harry was sure. The class consisted of the entirety of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Hermione, Ginny, Seamus, Neville, Lavender, several sixth years, and a smattering of participants from other house, including Draco Malfoy, much to everyone's surprise. He and Millicent Bulstrode were the only Slytherins in the class. Other students were in less advanced classes that contained, according to Professor Lupin, less dangerous information,' and Ron was in one of those classes, due mainly to his perceived unstable loyalties. At that point, Harry understood the reasoning completely, and agreed fully.  
  
Time seemed to accelerate then, between Harry's normal classes, the special evening classes, Quidditch practise, and the nightmares that were returning on a weekly basis, and occasionally more frequently. He had a pattern now. Wake up, write down what he could remember, head towards Moony's office and hand off the parchment. Meeting during breakfast with Dumbledore, late to first class. After awhile, his friends started rotating who would come with him to Dumbledore's office. This served two purposes; one, it made sure everyone was adequately informed, and two, everyone got a chance to miss part of a class that way. After all, Harry thought, what good were the nightmares if he couldn't benefit his friends in some small way?  
  
With each nightmare, they were able to piece together more and more of the plan, and some of their evening classes were devoted to setting up wards and protective charms throughout the castle. When the attack came, all students in third year and below were to immediately PortKey to an undisclosed safe location' – though Harry privately thought it was most likely somewhere deep below Hogwarts. Among fourth and fifth years, only those in the evening classes would remain, while all sixth and seventh years would remain. The students in Harry's class were especially nervous; they were to be hidden, a reserve of sorts, only to be brought out if needed. Harry hoped desperately that they would not be needed, even though some members of the class were slightly angry that they would not be allowed to fight.  
  
  
  
In mid-March, Dumbledore put Harry and the rest of the elite group on alert that the attack could happen at any time. They had sensor wards monitoring all possible entrances to Hogwarts grounds, and all the faculty plus the elite students would be alerted or awakened immediately if any of them were tripped. They had at least one prefect in each house among their group, and they were responsible for getting the other students Port Key'd away. Harry was a bundle of nerves, scar hurting almost continually. Two nights passed, then three. On the fourth night, a loud keening woke Harry up.  
  
Bloody hell! came the exclamation from Harry, Seamus, and Dean simultaneously. Harry grabbed his wand and immediately left the dormitory, pounding on the younger students' doors. First years! Up! Port Key NOW! Second years! Up! Away, NOW! Third years, UP!! Go NOW!! Harry could hear Hermione and GInny on the girls' side and Fred and George urging some of the fourth and fifth years away. Those missions accomplished, the remaining Gryffindors left the tower, half headed for the reserve area, the others headed to a staging area. Already the air was thick and crackly with magic. Harry and the others reached the reserve area, relieved to see the others already there, and knowing it meant all of the younger students were away and safe. They all huddled there, silent, fearing the worst, but seeing nor hearing nothing. The magic in the air was even heavier than before, Harry sensed. He glanced around the room, still surprised that Draco Malfoy was in there and not out fighting with the Death Eaters. Well, he stopped himself, he would've been surprised last year, but this year... Draco hadn't taunted Harry once, made a single slur to Ron, and uttered mudblood' a single time the entire term. Harry didn't know what had changed, but he liked the outward change _very_ well, and the inward change was a definite improvement.   
  
Minutes dragged by, and turned into hours. The magic in the air continued to grow thicker and more oppressive, as well as... darker. Then Draco stood up. I know Dumbledore said to wait, but... there's something wrong. This magic feels wrong, even for Dark magic.  
  
Harry stared for a moment, then slowly nodded. Draco was right. The magic felt very very wrong. Draco's right. All is not as it should be.  
  
But what can we do? asked Hermione, always practical. And what exactly feels wrong?  
  
The magic is... weak, Harry said finally. As if...  
  
As if the real battle is elsewhere, and Hogwarts merely a diversion, Draco finished grimly.  
  
Harry had to nod in agreement. Stupid git! I should've realised it ages ago.  
  
Why, Potter? Draco finally asked, as the room stared at Harry.  
  
Harry grimaced. Because this bloody scar hurts whenever Voldemort is near by. The room emitted a collective gasp.  
  
Oh, Harry, you're right! I should've thought of that as well! Hermione exclaimed. But what do we do now?  
  
Harry frowned. 'Mione, is there any kind of charm that would let us hear or see what's going on outside this room without weakening the charms already protecting it?  
  
Hermione was silent for a long time. There might just be. _Virginas Ocularis_. If we all said it at once, that is.  
  
Harry shrugged. It's our best chance, isn't it?  
  
The others in the room reluctantly nodded. Alright then, Hermione said, her voice brave but shaky, on three. One... two... three.  
  
VIRGINAS OCULARIS chanted the students in the room, and suddenly the walls became transparent.   
  
Harry gasped at the scene before them. Most of the students and faculty were immobilised, yet were breathing steadily, as if to show that they were not dead. Full body bind, you think? Harry whispered.  
  
Hermione agreed. Probably. Look at Neville, see, doesn't he look just like he did first year?  
  
Longbottom got hit with the full body bind in first year? Draco's voice was incredulous.  
  
Um, yeah. Harry paused. Actually, Hermione cast it; he was trying to stop us from keeping Quirrel from getting to the philosopher's stone.  
  
Draco's expression was puzzled. Oh. Well, at any rate, I don't think there are any Death Eaters here now. Probably they were supposed to look for you, Potter.  
  
Harry shrugged. Probably. Or you? Harry was guessing, but he knew that Malfoy hadn't gone home for Christmas this year, nor had he mentioned his father, so Harry suspected there was some falling out there.  
  
Draco regarded him steadily. Hmm. Maybe you have some Ravenclaw in you, then, Potter. Could be me. Could be.  
  
Hermione took over the conversation again at that point. What are we to do? We can't risk there being some Death Eaters still there.  
  
Uh, Hermione, I _do_ have a method of getting us out there unseen.  
  
Yes, but that's in Gryffindor Tower and we'd still –  
  
No, 'Mione, it's not. I think we could fit three of us under it still.  
  
Under what? Draco was clearly bewildered.  
  
My invisibility cloak. Now, come on, Hermione. Draco, are you coming or not?  
  
  
  
No, one of the other ten Dracos in the room. Yes, you.  
  
Why are you trusting me?  
  
Because you came into this room instead of helping.  
  
That could be part of a plan.  
  
Yes, and I could be a Death Eater. Harry shrugged. But I'm not, and I'm Gryffindor, and I'm trusting you, at least for today. Now, come ON.  
  
The three students crept out of the room, wands held at the ready. They reached Professor McGonagall first. whispered Hermione, even as Harry and Draco were casting the same spell on others in the corridors. Soon, a large group had formed, and the trio returned to the hidden room.  
  
Okay, everyone, Dumbledore and all the rest are awake now, so we're supposed to go back to our rooms until the morning. Good night. Harry finished the short speech with a large sigh, as the adrenaline induced energy wore off with a crash. There would be questions in the morning, but for tonight he would simply rest.  



	8. Attack? and Epilogue

  
Harry was right. The next morning dawned too early, and the students made their way to the hall for breakfast in a sleepy daze. Dumbledore announced that regular classes were canceled, but he asked the evening classes to gather, and all other students to return to their common rooms and wait for their Head of House to arrive.  
  
Harry and the other Gryffindors wearily made their way to Moony's classroom. Padfoot was waiting there as well, and he came bounding up to Harry, sniffing and licking him, as to reassure himself that Harry was fine. Padfoot, I'm fine, I still have all my limbs. Geroff! Padfoot sulked for a minute before laying down at Moony's feet.  
  
I know that all of you are wondering what exactly occurred last night, Moony began. As near as we can tell, the attack was mainly diversionary in nature, while the main body of Death Eaters was focused on a Muggle town in the middle of Wales. However, we did thwart their secondary goal, which was the capture and kidnapping of two of our students.  
  
asked Fred or George. I mean, I doubt they wanted Fred – so it was George talking – or I.  
  
Moony chuckled. Indeed. That would rather be like the Ransom of Red Chief, wouldn't it? He saw the blank looks of most of the class. Ah, nevermind, it's a Muggle story. No, Mr. Weasley, you are correct, they were not after you or your brother. In fact, they were after Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy – neither of which they could find. Here Moony smiled. Harry wasn't all that shocked – he had been right, then, about Draco – but he heard several gasps from around the room. He glanced sideways at Draco, and Draco merely shrugged, an ironic sort of half-smile on his lips. After that announcement, Moony moved on to other topics, and Harry let the matter drop from his mind.  
  
  
A few days after Voldemort's abortive attack, Harry was surprised when Ron approached him in the common room. Harry looked around; no one else was sitting nearby, so Ron wasn't trying to talk to them. Harry mentally cast around with his mind. Where was his wand? Oh, yes, front pocket. Good. Now what was Ron doing here?  
  
Ron cleared his throat. he said nervously.  
  
Harry raised his gaze cooly.   
  
Can we, um, talk?  
  
Harry sighed. Certainly. As long as by talk, you mean, to carry on a conversation, and not, to insult another person's being.  
  
Ron scowled. Okay, I won't say I didn't deserve that, but... I'd like to apologize.  
  
  
  
For... reacting like I did. I should've just kept my mouth shut, not hurt your feelings. Then we would at least talk.  
  
Ah. So your opinions still hold, you just wish you hadn't shared them. Harry paused. For what it's worth, Ron, I would like to talk with you sometimes.  
  
Ron's face brightened slightly. Well, then, how about a deal? We can start talking again except avoid the subject of – you know. Just don't tell me if you have a... a boyfriend or anything like that.  
  
Harry thought for a moment. On the one hand, Ron's offer was almost insulting. On the other, Harry _did_ miss Ron, no matter what the conditions were. Finally, he spoke. Okay. We'll see how it goes. Easter hols are coming up anyway, so we'll give it a go until then, and have a break, and then pick up slightly more. Sound good?  
  
Ron nodded vigorously, relieved. Well, I have to, uh, finish that Potions assignment so, uh, I'd better go. But, um, have you done your Divination homework yet?  
  
Harry allowed a half-smile to ghost across his face. No. Would you like to do it the good old-fashioned way tomorrow night?  
  
Ron nodded, and the pair separated. What did this mean? pondered Harry. One thing he was sure of – the events of the past week told him that one little era of his life was over, and another was probably beginning soon. He only wondered what was coming.


End file.
